Nightfall (Devil's Night, #4)

by Penelope Douglas

“Don’t you know that you can have anything you want?” His eyes searched mine. “I’ll hurt anyone for you.”

“Abuse can feel like love.” I blinked, the voice so close that my ears tingled. Slowly, I raised my eyes to look at the side of Damon Torrance’s face, his shirt wrinkled, and his tie draped around his neck. The whole class fell silent, and I glanced at Will next to me, seeing his eyebrows pinched together as he looked at the back of his friend’s head. Mr. Townsend approached. “‘Abuse can feel like love . . .’” he repeated. “Why?” Damon remained so still it didn’t look like he was breathing. He looked at the teacher, unwavering. “Starving people will eat anything.”

“Because screaming doesn’t help,” he murmured. “Does it?” My heart thundered in my chest, but I remained frozen, staring up at him as he looked at my body and the bruises in the shapes of fingers wrapped around my upper arm. The scrapes on my legs and the blue and purple on my shoulders. “Because you get tired of being the victim,” he said, like he was thinking out loud, “and it’s easier to just let it happen.” He raised his eyes, meeting mine again, and my throat stretched painfully as his words burrowed into me. He loosened his hold, but I didn’t run. “To just pretend we’re in control of everything happening to us,” he told me.

You’ve been blowing my mind for forever.

“But you . . . you’re my reflection.

“After a while, you get tired of pretending that you’re in control of everything that happens to you.” He paused, turning to me again. “And you start being what happens to everyone else.”